


Beautiful Hands

by Cinnamaldeide



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beautician Jimmy, F/M, Hand Model Chiyoh, M/M, Manicure, Nail Technician Hannibal, Not Beta Read, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 13:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15438396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamaldeide/pseuds/Cinnamaldeide
Summary: Expansive types like Jimmy Price always appealed to silent persons like Chiyoh, whom in turn intrigued their counterpart using words rather sparingly.An ordinary seduction between a good listener and an affable talker in four simple steps.Written for Hannibal Cre-Ate-Ive’s #EatTheRare





	1. Unnecessary Flatteries

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Necronon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Necronon/gifts), [Zigzagwanderer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zigzagwanderer/gifts).



> For Necronon and Zigzag, whose conversations always prove very inspiring :)

In her transparent devotion and invested affection for Hannibal, Chiyoh underestimated his scarce compunction to require her assistance and impose in her otherwise reclusive routine.

Regardless, whenever he asked to borrow her beautiful hands, Chiyoh wouldn’t refuse. “Strong and flexible as your personality,” Hannibal complimented her long nails, caressing them gently. Chiyoh barely cared for her own extremities, except for their usefulness to her acquired brother. She perfectly understood his manicurist courses required models to practice and to implement his detailed explanations.

“Nail technician,” Hannibal would unfailingly correct those incorrect terms his companion favoured in his presence, cosmetologists and aestheticians among his favourites. Teases in which Will Graham delighted, to her silent dismay. Opposites really _did_ attract.

Despite his mischievous behaviour, Will Graham submitted to her same fate, if admittedly far less graciously, whenever Hannibal kindly demanded his valuable support. Chiyoh was less affected by Hannibal’s unneeded manipulative flatteries, instead far more invested in her own faithfulness.

 

 

With her back straight and her unreadable face, Chiyoh posed her spread fingers on the workbench for lengthy hours in utter silence without acknowledging her indifference towards Hannibal’s awkward, loud clients, dutifully discouraging conversations directed at her.

Some customers were inclined to distractions. Some prone to undue eulogies. Some invested in intrusive questions. Some all at once. “Your skin is _so_ soft! I love your hands. Must be nice to have Dr. Lecter always at your disposal for nail repair. What is your relationship with him, anyway?” Hannibal taught training classes on nail reconstruction, refilling, stamping, often comparing different techniques and products, four to seven encounters necessary. Chiyoh encountered similar individuals frequently. In time she learned how to deal with them.

“Pardon my straightforwardness, lovely lady, if I ask for your hand,” proclaimed her latest assigned apprentice, hopefully less gauche than his trying predecessor. “I promise to treat it with utmost care,” he theatrically said, flaunting an amicable grin. His blond eyebrow raised in an amusing expression. Chiyoh averted her demure eyes and acquiesced his playful request with a polite smile for his penchant for romantic overtures.

Her silence, as often was the case with extroverted individuals, compelled him to establish a verbal contact, as if her words were more precious in virtue of their scarcity. “Beautiful hands,” he praised, unobtrusive, appraising her slender fingers. His own hands were light, his care detached, as if he were used to learn through touch. As if he was learning about her as well. “I assume flattery won’t get me anywhere, but it doesn’t mean it’s less true,” he muttered, seeming unconcerned with Hannibal’s explanations. “Professional opinion, I swear,” he concluded, as Hannibal interceded his casual attempt at conversation by reprimanding him calling his first name, before Chiyoh could address his remark. “Jimmy is enough,” he whispered as Hannibal proceeded with his own lesson, heedless of the previous two hours of theoretical dissertation on _hypohychium_ and nail matrix. Uncaring for the remaining two to come on nail forms and curvature.

Thus Chiyoh learned his name. It seemed fair to disclose her own.

 

 

Three of her nails had been trimmed and polished that day, from little finger to medium, then meticulously reconstructed in a transparent pink gel of Hannibal’s production. As result of the promised utmost care, however, one of her instalment broke from its support during the night.

Gingerly collecting its solid residue in her palm, the following morning, Chiyoh wondered about its crafter, who had presumably been too careful not to abrade her sensitive cuticle, thoughtfully inquiring about her distress instead of adapting her nails to his own necessities. Hannibal would excuse him, for his minor issue resulted from her own fault.


	2. Orange and Honeysuckle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s late. I know it’s been two months, I know nothing could justify the fact that you definitely waited too long for this update. I just want to thank you for still being here after all this time and for your support, it means so much to me, more than you know.

In her leisure time, Chiyoh hunted. Hannibal had taught her to lurk in the shadow waiting for her pray, to never hold up her gun before actually seeing it, to patiently weight her decision to pull the trigger, shooting the bullet which would lead to its death or survival.

Chiyoh had become an unhurried, silent predator. She hunted wild flowers as well.

 

On their second encounter, facing Jimmy Price from her cushioned location, Chiyoh noticed his delicate perfume. It reminded her of orange and honeysuckle, of small, double-tongued flowers climbing the wall behind her childhood home. Its sweet notes didn’t contrast with his masculine features. Chiyoh didn’t express her appreciation.

“I work in a lab,” Jimmy said. “My workplace is certainly clean and well organized, I’m absolutely fond of my colleagues and I find the environment anything but boring, amusing even,” he conversationally continued. “Yet it’s not a place for air fresheners and honestly I prefer to avoid the smell outside of my working schedule.”

Chiyoh suspected speaking helped Jimmy maintaining his concentration during precision works, as well as entertaining her during those thirty seconds required for the gel on her nails to solidify in his UV lamp.

“Queen bees can live up to five years. When they die, the bee colony recognize the absence of her pheromones and proceed installing its new queen, which will change its behaviour, its personality if you like, according to the new authority controlling the hive.” Jimmy casually checked the timer. “I recently saved a hive from extermination, I’m very passionate about preventing their extinction. Bees are hard-working guys, helpful in their ecosystems,” Jimmy observed. “A friend of mine keeps a small bee farm not far from my place, I try to sustain her apiculture acquiring her products. Hand lotion, lip balm, bar soaps,” he listed while extracting her hand from his device, satisfied with his result.

Curiously, she noticed the main product wasn’t mentioned. “I’m not fond of straight honey. I tried adding it to my regular regiment, but nothing would persuade my poor palate that honey in my coffee could ever taste any good,” he confessed, raised eyebrows.

Chiyoh discerned Hannibal’s sophistication in Jimmy’s peculiar appreciation of such pleasing amenities, if not her brother’s chilling sense of humor. Hannibal would have probably commented on God’s design on bees extinction. Glimpsing Will Graham intent on assisting in Hannibal’s perfectionistic reconstructions from the corner of her eye, always tired but nonetheless inexplicably willing in his tasks, Chiyoh wondered to which point Jimmy’s preferences mirrored his instructor’s.

“I’m certain Hannibal would appreciate your insight, if you decided to share your knowledge with him,” she declared. “His sweet tooth rivals his superfine sense of smell.”

“I might as well,” Jimmy answered to her stiff hand, without raising his attentive eyes from his accurate work. “Looking at the incredible progresses in Will’s eating habits, when work had him skinny and pale because of the stress, I’m sure he’d persuade you to gain some healthy weight before winter sets.” His thumb discreetly, absently caressed her hand, before positioning it again in the lamp. “A little meat on your bones would really suit you, my dear.”

Chiyoh blushed at his words and gesture.

 

Instead of sleeping in her comfortable bed of linen sheets and goose feathers, Chiyoh found herself looking outside of her open window, contemplating the night and its proverbial good counsel.

Many commended Chiyoh’s purposefulness in her pursuits. Once her attention would set on a potential pray, she’d briefly pierce though its flesh and bone with her eyes, before using her weapon. Chiyoh knew where she liked to sink her teeth, as well as Hannibal sank his in Will.

With restless fingers and sleepless mind, she fiddled with a no longer blooming dandelion which patiently waited for her to blow away its seeds.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy’s friend is of course Miss Pimms, poor gentle soul. In case you were wondering why Will always looks so tired, you may read [this spin-off](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13331616/chapters/36313116) I produced last month to keep you company while you waited for this update ;)


	3. Craquelure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy’s features smoothed in a beatific expression, as he daydreamed. “It must be good to have someone who really listen to you and understands your reasonings.”

In dire circumstances, Hannibal tended to either call for help from someone he could entirely trust or withdraw into himself to face his inner demons in solitude. Chiyoh was familiar with his poor emotional management, which frequently lead to an unbecoming behaviour on his part, which eventually would lead to her assistance in dealing with equally dire consequences.

Chiyoh was there when Mischa happened. To her utter relief, Mischa proved to be an isolated case. After such tragic events, Hannibal resolved to improve his control or adopt a discreeter approach. Since their transfer in America, Hannibal succeeded in keeping a low profile, if not keeping entirely caged the beast inside himself.

Silently assessing Hannibal’s behaviour, Chiyoh reputed Will Graham’s influence considerably improved his impetuous temperament. Hannibal found an invaluable friend, as well as a faithful lover, in his quiet figure. It nicely filled her previous pacifying role, leaving Chiyoh without purpose in Hannibal’s existence, so she had simply resumed to wait.

 

“It was Will who told me about Hannibal’s courses,” Jimmy Price revealed in a cordial tone, interrupting his unusually prolonged silence. “I met him when he visited our lab the first time. Strange guy, I thought, which is an understatement coming from _me_ ,” he disclosed. “He didn’t strike me as someone interested in beauty treatments, so when he mentioned Hannibal and his saloon, where he occasionally helped with small chores and eventually learned about products and proceedings, I started questioning my own investigative skills.”

Hannibal had been shaping Will Graham at his leisure for the better part of a month, Chiyoh didn’t voice out loud. Differently to Will Graham, Jimmy Price had an authentic interest in skin care and sterile hand sanitizer, uncommon for a pastime as it was. His desire to surround himself with pleasing applications of his hygienic knowledge outside of his professional environment was quite compelling, as much was clear.

“I could tell Will hated consulting for our researches, though,” Jimmy resumed. “It visibly weared him down, but we needed his insight for our research subject. Will has an admirable understanding of macabre tableaux.”

Much like Hannibal, Chiyoh presumed. Both individual of singular, dangerous intellect.

“I assumed Will was a really nice guy, under all that grumpiness, since he always submitted to such a strenuating routine for us without ever having his temporary badge upgraded to a permanent one,” Jimmy bitterly concluded, genuinely puzzled by his colleague’s immolation. “That, or he had a very twisted brain.”

“Will has a kind soul, although the same cannot be said of his manners,” Chiyoh agreed, not entirely sure the alternatives Jimmy Price illustrated were mutually exclusive. His flattering attention for Will Graham alerted her, yet simultaneously revealed his clear acquaintance with unstable minds. Chiyoh knew patience was required to interact with those.

“Hannibal really improved his attitude, I have to say,” Jimmy informed her. “Their interaction might have started on the wrong foot, they had their rises and falls, but they sure form a nice match now.” Jimmy’s features smoothed in a beatific expression, as he daydreamed. “It must be good to have someone who really listen to you and understands your reasonings.”

Chiyoh suspected she wouldn’t care for a passive interlocutor to reflect her discretion, instead  perhaps someone to match her silences.

 

“ _Craquelure_?” Jimmy had quizzically muttered that day, seemingly puzzled by Hannibal’s unfamiliar term, accurate but unnecessarily fancy. “Cracks that appear on our work surface as the nail polish dries and becomes rigid,” Hannibal had explained, mildly distressed over the interruption.

Their lesson had proceeded without further diversions, but Chiyoh was reminded of their brief exchange during that evening, while Will Graham studied her profile with assessing eyes. Hannibal had invited the both of them over for a private, modest dinner, in deference to Chiyoh’s food predilection. Will certainly wasn’t paying adequate attention to the fish he himself caught and Hannibal so thoroughly prepared.

“It seemed strange today Jimmy didn’t catch your French. I’m almost sure he mentioned taking Latin in college, which should be similar enough to guess the meaning,” Will commented. “You were present to the conversation,” Will sought Hannibal’s confirmation.

“I haven’t forgotten,” Hannibal answered, without further elaboration on his question. Chiyoh suspected a confirmation wasn’t all Will required from Hannibal, but she considered prudent not to get herself involved in their silent implications.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I adopted Emungere’s [headcanon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5893291/chapters/13583764) :)


	4. Rosé wine and noble gasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m always wary of people who don’t talk much.” Jimmy averted his gaze, suddenly pensive. “They tend to let me speak freely, I tend to fill in their silences. It is not always appreciated.”  
> Last step of this mild seduction :)

On still evenings, when the air was damp after a rain, Hannibal and Chiyoh played a game. He would burn all kinds of barks and incense for her to identify by scent alone. Chiyoh told Will about Hannibal’s charm, describing him as an innocent cub that grew into a beautiful, feral creature. One with whom playing had become dangerous.

She disclosed her precious memories to warn him about Hannibal’s _un_ meek nature, ensuring Will hadn’t been attracted to the cub and remained wholly unsuspecting of the indomitable creature. She found him rather interested in the feline instead.

A few weeks later, Chiyoh learned about Will Graham’s pack of strays. She wondered about Hannibal’s reaction to the strong olfactory assault it must have borne.

 

After certifications and congratulations had been graciously delivered to all participants and an _apparently_ haphazard banquet had been prepared for anyone to socialize before Hannibal and his apprentices would part ways, Will Graham didn’t lose time to perform his strategic escape in the backroom.

Chiyoh noticed his retreats, as she unwillingly noticed the furtive glances Hannibal would reserve for his lover after particularly amorous encounters, and sighed at his ineptitude. Of all the partners Hannibal could choose, his preference had fallen on a recluse with even less aptitude for conversation than her.

Her brother had probably been seeking someone to compliment his own talkativeness, a fine art in entertaining his guest Hannibal had been refining since he learned it could be useful to hide in plain sight, to talk without actually _saying_. In between pleasantries and platitudes, Chiyoh overheard her own name proffered by his mouth. “Between iron and silver,” Hannibal was saying amidst attentive listener, “I think that’s an appropriate location for her.”

Familiar with his elaborate metaphors, Chiyoh immediately understood his intent to flatter her name and not disclose their blood tie, nor their reciprocal affection. Chiyoh couldn’t replace his precious Mischa, as couldn’t Hannibal for her, but they shared a fondness, which both sensed as a threat. It made them vulnerable.

“Doesn’t he know the noble gasses are considered the most stable elements, which appear in fact on the left side of the periodic table?” Jimmy Price wondered aloud, visibly confused by Hannibal’s inaccurate affirmation. Chiyoh privately smirked at his justified puzzlement.

“I know they are,” she countered, dismissive. She turned towards him. “Do you?”

Jimmy hadn’t precisely been avoiding her until then, merely enjoying the placid company of his colleagues and the high quality of Hannibal’s selection of wine. Jimmy seemed to observe what Hannibal colloquially called the logic of _dulcis in fundo_.

Laying her unwavering gaze on his relaxed figure, Chiyoh admired his eloquent frown, drink hovering close to his lips, eyes studying her in return without a table to divide them for once. Jimmy seemed to know she’d been asking more than chemical elucidation.

“You’re always so spare with your words,” Jimmy playfully lamented, smiling at the bubbles in his rosé. “I am, on the contrary, rather loquacious given the opportunity,” he admitted. “I tend to offer more informations than my interlocutors require, overwhelming them with my suave voice until I drive them insane about bird hunting techniques, as you may have already noticed. I’m occasionally blessed with that particular glint in their eyes that means they just heard something they preferred not knowing,” Jimmy explained, displaying with perfect clarity the satisfaction he’d obtain in such occurrences. “As a consequence, I’m always wary of people who don’t talk much.” Jimmy averted his gaze, suddenly pensive. “They tend to let me speak freely, I tend to fill in their silences. It is not always appreciated.”

Mirroring his delicate sipping, Chiyoh tasted her own serving of wine. She apprehended his concern to result suffocating, to destabilize her with futile trivias and pretentious ramblings, as if she were fragile. As if she hadn’t lived most of her life with Hannibal.

Alas, Chiyoh was well accustomed to chatty individuals, but she appreciated his sentiment. “I would interrupt you, weren’t your remarks entirely welcomed,” she assured him. “Charming, even.”

Jimmy seemed delighted with her compliment. “Try to tell _that_ to my twin brother.”

 

Either Hannibal or Will Graham had ever asked Chiyoh about her recent liaison with Jimmy Price, which extended beyond the previous meetings scheduled for the manicurist course, nor would Chiyoh volunteer any explanation in regards to their romantic entanglement.

Neither would understand her predilection for quiet, affectionate, _undemanding_ individuals. She didn’t need to throw herself and her partner from a cliff to legitimate her tender feelings. There were in fact means of influence other than violence.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first serious attempt at Rare Pairings and I was rather insecure. I had a fair idea about where it was going, but I didn’t know I’d manage to interest anybody else in finding out. Thank you very much for sustaining my endeavour and showing your appreciation for my commitment, every kudos and comment has been reasured and appreciated.  
> You can still find my photoset [on Tumblr](https://cinnamaldeide.tumblr.com/post/176294782779/) or [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/posts/350046), I’ve been so glad I received your support :)


End file.
